


Inspirations

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-neutral Reader, Implied Relationships, M/M, Mild Gore, Minor Canonical Character(s), No Romance, Reader-Insert, or - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 12:12:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16810354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After being unceremoniously rescued by the Winchester brothers, you’re struck with inspiration.





	Inspirations

It has just been a normal night out for you. A fun time at the bar after work. That’s all this was supposed to be. Now you were caught in the crossfire of a situation your head couldn’t even attempt to wrap itself around. All you understood was survive.

Survive.

The screaming, the echoing of gunfire and hair raising metal clink of bullet shells ricocheting off the cement floor. The blinding flashes of light, like lighting. The painful strain in your head, like it was being split in half. Each hair upon and cell of your scalp strung till it snapped. If your throat wasn’t so parched you would have joined in the chorus of hellish cries. Every thought in your head was there and gone all at once, like a room full up with water but draining at the same time. You decided I was better to forgo your conscious thought entirely. You were running on base instinct and limited energy along. You were that smart phone at 10% when you really needed it. 

Before any other analogy could come to be you were wrenched from the floor suddenly, a clawed hand pawing at you and snatching your limo form up. Your legs dangled lamely and your hair was pulled out of your tear-crusted eyes by gravity. You got a good look at the monster holding you. It’s face was almost human in the most unsettling way possible. Their skin was peachy but patches of fur stuck up in randomly across the face. Their nose was glistening, wetter. Their snout protruded further than your own. Their hair was splitting and shedding to make way for a canine ears on the top of their head. But the eyes hadn’t changed. You could see the caged torment in them, underneath the lust for carnage and feed.

The way it looked at you made your skin crawl. Made it burn hot on the surface. You wanted to sear off every inch it’s disgusting clammy paws had touched on you. It seemed to sense your disgust and growled, its lips pulling up high, squishing the cheeks. It’s whole chest rumbled with the force of its pure unadulterated passion. You sucked in your breath and clamped your eyes shit just in time for it to throw you back down to the dirt-cake floor you had been sprawled upon a second ago. This time much more painfully, if that was possible. The beast then loomed over you, drool-like slime oozing from their mouth, a few drops landing on your cheek. You cringed, feeling the gelatinous substance slide down the curvature of your face, leaving a streaky line down you, like a snail’s trail. You didn’t dare open your eyes again. You didn’t need to, you could feel the weight of the beast on your middle. It’s heady breath fanned your pores with each breath out. You knew it was there.

In a last ditch effort to save yourself, you raised your arm and curled in your fingers. You slashed ahead of you, feeling your nails dig into fur and flesh. You wretched out a cry of intent, opening your eyes in time to see the beast reel back and cry. You gasped, pulling your head back once the deed was done. At first you felt a rush of proud adrenaline and were able to kick your muscles into motion. 

Up on your hands and knees you lumbered away on the floor, eyes still trained on the beast. It shook its head out, your claw marks already scabbing over and healing. Shit. 

By now the gunfire had died down. They were all killed or run out of the bar on 145 Liberty Street. It only made the yowl the beast let out even more deafening. It reared up and lunged towards you. You screamed and rolled to the side just in time. You should be dead already but you couldn’t stop fighting to survive. Regardless of how much your lungs burned, how much your head pounded or how much your probably broken ribs whined. You turned, expecting the beast to be on you again in a moment. But all that fell away at the sounding of bullet. You could hear the squelch of guys being punctured and ripped out to splatter on the wall ahead of it. Your eyes were widened, pupils dilated so far there was no color between them and the sclera. The beast had taken a bullet right through the chest, now staggering and choking. Blood was bubbling up past its lips, swirling and mixing with the drool. It’s eyes rolled back into its skull and it have one last ragged breath before it fell back with a giant thump.

Dead.

Your hands were shaking from the shock of it, clambering for something to hold onto in the name of safety. You shut your eyes and clamped your hands over them, finally letting yourself sob. Your chest jittered and heaved with your uneven sobs. 

It’s going to be okay it’s going to be okay it’s going tobeokayitsgoingtobeokayitsgoingtobeokayitsgoingto-

“Woah. Hey hey hey-“ a pair of hands suddenly grabbed your shoulders, forcefully but gently. 

“You’re okay, kid. Don’t cry.” A deep male’s voice spoke to you. You snapped out of your sound-induced trance and whimpered, slowly looking up ar the brunette above you. He was gruff and a little rough around the edges. But you felt safe around him, somehow. It was an instant sensation and it was no use judging biology at this point. Your eyes fluttered till they were only half open and you shifted forward, resting against the man. He didn’t seem to pull back, in fact he snaked one arm around to hold your back. 

“There… You need your rest.” It was then the weight of your tiredness settled in and your body felt like it gained two hundred pounds. You couldn’t move an inch, not even lift a finger. But it was okay. You were enveloped in a warm feeling and human contact. This man, he smelled like cinnamon, baked goods, iron blood, and a hint of gunpowder. Somehow it all culminated into what you could only describe as home.

…

  
  


When you woke up, you didn’t know where you were. Not exactly. You could tell you were in a car, sure. The worn-out leather was cool beneath you and the faint mumble of the radio played in the back of your head. But where the car was, was a total mystery to you. Glancing about your environment you assumed the car to be on the older side. It sure wasn’t a Lexus or a Honda. Pausing, you recognized that same deep voice from before, accompanied by another. 

“We can’t keep ‘em around Sam. It’s dangerous,”

“I know. But what do you suppose we do? Everyone in that bar was slaughtered and there’s no way we’re going back there. That’s guaranteed PTSD.” 

“...”

“Maybe Bobby can watch them, till they’re back in their feet. I don’t know.” 

Blinking a few times, you focused on the backs of a pair of guys, front and passenger seat. You recognized one as the brunette from the other day. Or yesterday. You had no way to tell the time. The other had longer hair of approximately the same color. 

“H..Hello?” You mewled, drawing the attention of both males. Finally you got a good look at their faces. They certainly looked related. Handsome and related, Yep. 

“Ah shit-“ the one on the left in the passenger seat furrowed his brow before raising his breath to address you. “You feeling okay? I was hoping you’d sleep the whole ride… No changing that now. I’m Sam, and this is my brother, Dean. Do you,, remember anything from last night?”

You squinted your eyes, so it was yesterday. “I certainly can still feel it. I feel like jelly and my whole body hurts like a bitch.” 

Sam chuckled and nodded, guilt welling up in his eyes, but he let you continue.

“I don’t know what it was. I was just having a drink after work. Y’know, how you usually do. I’m just sitting there at the bar minding my business and next you know there’s this nasty fucking howl, like a dog or something. No- a wolf. It was disgusting, it came up and started attacking people. Some of the guys in the bar are the guns-are-my-rights type, so they whipped those suckers out and started whaling on it. But it didn’t affect it at all! It just tore right past those bullets and slaughtered ‘em. I’m not stupid and I tried to run, get out of there while it was distracted. Only problem is the door was locked. I don’t know who’s smart idea it was to do that, but whatever. So I’m running back around and yelling for help and that thing is taking a notice to me. At that time I had gotten down on the floor while it was busy with those gun fucks. It did get a hold of me and snap at me, pushed its weight on me and then threw me around. I’m surprised I didn’t pass out but I was too hopped up on adrenaline I guess… And I guess that’s where you guys came in. My knights in shining armor, thanks.” You extended them a weak smile. You could try to act as unbothered as you wanted but you were terrified, truly. You just walked out f of the grasp of death.

The brothers, Sam and Dean, shared a look between them before looking back at you. 

“That’s a hell of a story, kid.” Dean widened his eyes slightly. 

“So what was that thing?”

“Werewolf.” Sam answered, Dean having turned his main focus back on the road ahead of him. 

“What the- you’re kidding. C’mon. I can believe genetic experiment or prehistoric monster we didn’t know existed. But a werewolf? Thats B S.” 

“I promise you, it ain’t, kid.”

“You saw it with your own eyes, y/n.” Sam hardened his expression.

“Hey hey woah- how’d you know my name?” You gaped, suddenly getting a little wary of them. Shit maybe you were getting kidnapped into a cult here. Was it possible to survive jumping ship from a moving car?

“...You’re still wearing your name tag.”

“Oh.” You looked down at your chest and saw indeed you still had the damn thing on. 

Dean chuckled. “We aren’t creeps, don’t worry.” 

“Duly noted.”

Sam cleared his throat. “So I get this is just a weird situation all around. But we’re going to stop at a motel soon here. You can have your own room, y/n. From there- we’ve got a friend you can stay with if you need it. It’s not safe in Salem now. We took care of that thing but… I don’t think your head would wanna go back there. We’re far out of Oregon by now, too.”

You nodded slowly, crossing your arms. “I’m… not exactly enthused to be leaving my whole livelihood behind but. I’ll really try to look at this with a good perspective.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose between your finger pads. “I didn’t have some great life in Salem. Maybe this is the change of pace I needed?” It wasn’t really a question, but an unsure query out in the air. 

Dean seemed to hum his approval. “There you go. I like them already, Sam.” He flashed a smirk at his taller counterpart.

Sam simply rolled his eyes, “I don’t need another you, one is more than enough.” He twisted in his seat to face you again. “He’s a total ass don’t let his act fool you, y/n.”

“Hey-!” 

“I’ll keep it in mind, thanks Sam.” You snorted, raising a brow. 

…

It had been a good talk and another nap in what you learned was the Impala. More affectionately named “Baby”. You ended up being jostled awake, finding you were in some crappy motel in Santa Barbara. It was a hell of a ways from Oregon, the brothers hadn’t been kidding. Looking past the roof of your building you could see the picturesque Santa Ynez mountains and the other direction led to the sea. But for the sake of your decrepit body you got to stare at a blank popcorn ceiling. Joy. 

Sam and Dean has gone into their room across the hall for the night, something about research. But you were a little too out of it to pay all that much attention. You just needed a bed. A flea-bitten springboard antique of a bed but it was better than that cement floor back in Salem. You took what you could get and allowed your body the proper spread eagle relaxing it needed. Exhaling, the world seemed to slow back down. The clock ticked by tediously long but that was comforting. There was no more rushing and panic. For once, you welcomed the feeling of taking forever. You wanted forever to last. The fact that you’d been run out of your home didn’t even bother you. The freedom was empowering in a way. You could do whatever you wanted right now. Granted what you wanted to do wasn’t very exciting. The sentiment was still there.

You could hear the ghost of a conversation from across the hall but you didn’t care what it was the brothers were saying. You weren’t a gossip. But speaking of the brothers- you wanted to thank them. Joking aside they were your heroes. You’d be werewolf meat otherwise. Slowly forcing your spine to rise, you leaned over the edge of the bed. The mattress lurched a creaking sound below your rear. 

Shuffling across the hall, you rapped on their door. Sam answered, giving you a look saying he expected who came to their door.

“Hey y/n, you feeling any better?” He asked in a hushed voice. You glanced back in the room for a few seconds before stepping past you into the hall, closing the door behind him.

“Oh you know, could be better.” You cringed, raising your shoulders. “But oh- I came over for a reason. I wanted to thank you guys. I’d be lying if I said I understood all of this but I’m grateful you saved my ass.” You forced a more genuine smile onto your lips.

Sam chuckled, shifting on his hips and leaning back on the gaudy wallpaper of the dim hallway. “You’re welcome… But you don’t have to feel indebted to us. We’re just doing what we think is right here, we try to save as many people as possible.” 

“You still deserve thanks.” 

“Alright, thanks accepted.” 

“Good.” You paused, fiddling with your fingers. You didn’t think about what you’d do next. 

“Want to come in?” Sam ventured. 

“Excuse me?”

“If you didn’t want to be alone I mean!” Sam blubbered, looking almost as nervous as you.

You nodded and Sam opened the door back up, slipping inside rather gracefully for such a big man. The room was identical to yours, besides the shotgun that was casually laying on the couch. Turning your head, you spotted Dean in the kitchen on the phone. His brow was knitted close together. When his pupils flicked over to yours you offered him a little wave. Dean bit his lip unconsciously and gave a half hearted wave back. 

“Pizza?” Your attention was snapped back to Sam who had a box of said food opened on a table. 

Instantly you were drooling and walking over. “Holy shit. I didn’t even know I was hungry until now.” You tried to hold yourself back, snatching up a deliciously greasy slice. 

Sam got himself a piece as well and took up a seat at the little table. “So Dean’s on the phone with a good friend of ours, Bobby. We… we think it’s best to take you to him. He’s taken care of us too many times to count, so trust him okay? I know this is all a hell of a lot to take in but it’s what we can offer you, y/n.” 

You gasped mid-bite into your pizza, eyes widening at Sam. “Well I’m trying to make peace with the situation but this is probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever doesn’t for me. And I haven't even known you guys a day.” 

You looked down, brows raising in a guilty expression. “I don’t have anything to give you guys, in return.”

“You can keep yourself alive and make a life your yourself, y/n. That’s more than enough for us.” Sam hummed, setting down his slice. You could feel your chest tightening in unbridled admiration for these men. 

“I can promise you that, Sam.” 

…

Twirling your pistol around your finger, a grin graced your face. The beast hadn’t even seen it coming. Consider it revenge, you thought. 

Skipping and hopping out of the barn, you popped the trunk of your Pontiac GTO, laying your precious babies back where they belonged. The vintage Browning Auto-5 was your most prized. You were giddy to complete another hunt. Every time, it brought you back to that chance encounter with those two brothers. As short as it was, it held more impact on your life than you thought anything else imaginable. It took at least a month but you’d convinced Bobby to teach you. And now, two years later you’d begun making a name for yourself. 

Your fingertips grazed the cool metal door handle, about to pull it open when you feel your hair stand on end. 

“Y/n?” 

You recognized that voice. 

“Sam?” You winced, sounding far more desperate than you wanted to. You’d long ago accepted you wouldn’t see them again. And yet: here they were.

“Where you doing in a place like this, kid?” Dean gruffed, raising one brow.

“Just killed a pack before it could even start. Guess I say you’re welcome?” You smiled proudly. 

“You… Hunt now?” Sam looked worried now. 

“Mhm- so how’s about we talk over a can of beer, huh? I’d love to hear how you guys have been. I’ve thought about you all the time- I mean. You didn’t hear that.” You laughed awkwardly, stepping away from the Pontiac to envelop them in a hug and drag them to it. 

Both brothers shared a look before shrugging and going along with it.

Who knew that poor kid they’d dropped off with Bobby would end up blossoming greener than they’d expected. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed ! I’ve been a fan for a while but this is my first time writing for SPN. Please tell me what you thought or maybe suggestions. I’d love to write a proper Winchester/Reader :) ! 
> 
> \- toby ~~


End file.
